


Picture Perfect

by Reyanth



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Double Malleus, M/M, Spying, Threesome, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyanth/pseuds/Reyanth
Summary: Malleus wonders about Sebek's bedroom decor and possesses the portrait of himself to get some answers. What he learns is not quite what he was expecting.
Relationships: Malleus Draconia/Sebek Zigvolt
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	Picture Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katsu (Hotzenplotz)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotzenplotz/gifts).



> I wrote this as a birthday present for one of my most dear enablers. You know who you are. :p

A tall, imposing portrait of a dark, princely fae, hanging in pride of place beside a four-poster bed with the curtains pulled back. It was an intrigue, to be sure.

The first time Malleus had entered Sebek's room, he had been curious. The second time, he had been slightly self-conscious. The third...he had noted the placing, right above Sebek's desk and in full view of where Malleus' manservant would place his head to sleep...

The pillows were tilted tellingly, imprinted heavily on one side, where Sebek would place his weight if he were to lie in bed and gaze up at that portrait...doing who knew what? Malleus had ideas...but he could not be sure. He wanted to be sure.

There was a spell he had read of once that could give him a portrait's-eye view... It was not an easy spell, nor entirely above-the-board. Certain magics were regulated for the sake of public privacy. Even so, most magicians would cast wardings about their private rooms and in places where they required secrecy...but wardings were second year spells, and Sebek was only in first year.

For the first time, Malleus wondered that the school did not supply wardings on all of their rooms, for the sake of those who were not yet trained in or not particularly adept at protective magics. He supposed it was incentive to be diligent in one's studies...or to make friends with someone who was. Of course, that friend would need to be trusted, as they would be able to tamper with anything inside of wards of their own casting.

Frowning into his homework sheet on mirror magic, Malleus suddenly wondered why neither Sebek nor Silver had come to him with such a request. Lillia, of course, could easily cast such wards...but he would not. It was Lillia's style of parenting to push his adopted children to learn for themselves whatever they may require. But Malleus wouldn't mind helping them, if they had only asked him...

Snapping shut the Book of Mirrors he was using for reference, Malleus stood from his desk and rolled his neck. It was growing late.

Sebek had already laid out his nightclothes, and the steam wafting from the fresh tea placed so recently by Malleus' elbow enticed him with calming herbal fragrances to change and seek the comfort of his bed. He took the tea and sipped at it, glancing at his bed, but thinking instead of a certain book he recalled.

Placing down the half empty teacup, Malleus slipped out of his room and went to knock on Lillia's door. He was drawn into a game of strange quizzes before Lillia deigned to let him in.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, young whippersnapper?" Lillia asked when the door finally opened, his tone light and teasing. There was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, and an air of mischief in his buoyant cheeks.

"There's a book I wish to borrow," Malleus said bluntly, not on the same, playful wavelength as Lillia that late evening. "I wonder if you brought it with you to the academy."

"I brought all my books! If you recall the name, I might even summon it for you."

"Something about... scribbling...and...prying?"

"Scribbles and Scrying? Oh? What use might you have for that, my lad?"

"There are...things I wish to see. Places. Beyond my room."

"Ah, homesick, are you? It happens to us all, to be sure." Raising his hand, Lillia summoned in a dark tome awash with navy waves, as though an ocean of paint had lapped across its cover. "Here you are. I recommend the chapter on scrying through water bowls. Or the origami avatars can be a lot of fun, too! Just be careful not to scry anywhere warded. Folks don't get too happy when you break their wards without good reason."

"I don't intend to look anywhere that is warded," Malleus assured his ancient little vice-prefect. "Thank you for the book. Goodnight, Lillia."

"Goodnight, little prince."

An airy jump landed a kiss on Malleus' forehead, furrowed with surprise as his eyes opened wide. He couldn't remember the last time Lillia had kissed his forehead. He felt a welling of warmth in his chest and realized that there might be some truth to Lillia's assertion that he was homesick.

As he returned to his own room, Malleus was thoughtful. He had not missed home much at all in the excitement of his first year at NRC. Nor had he been much bothered during his second-year, when he was frantically embroiled in studies and school activities. He was no less busy since his third year had begun...but he was used to the hustle and bustle of school life...and there was something about the quiet, mysterious life in the Valley of Thorns that he found he did miss.

Perhaps Sebek and Silver were also a reminder of home that he had not had previously. He had missed them, of course, along with all of his other retainers, friends, and family...but he had had Lillia—who blended so seamlessly with academy life that Malleus hadn't thought twice about home. Yet Sebek, in particular, had a certain rustic charm about him that evoked many memories of green thickets, berry-laden vines, stormy skies full of magic, and the electric crackle of the air in the valley that Malleus now missed fiercely all of a sudden.

Taking his tea, he made himself comfortable, sinking into his upright pillows, fully clothed and book in hand. He thumbed through the index, searching for a chapter on inhabiting inanimate objects and artworks. He remembered something about likenesses and levels of difficulty...

*

Sebek retired to his room with his prince's permission, and began his nightly ritual of grooming his appearance. Fingernails. Toenails. Those, he clipped once a week. Teeth were to be brushed and hair brushed out, freed of all product with a stripping spell on the bristles. He washed his face, gargled, groomed his brows, and took care of other bodily needs that would ensure he was always in peak condition to serve his master.

When he was ready, he went to the kitchen, made himself a cup of the same tea he had brewed for Malleus—reusing the same leaves for efficiency as he often did—and returned to his room, changing into his pajamas. Then, he climbed into bed and relaxed back against the pillowed headboard, gazing up at the portrait of the man he was honored to serve.

Sipping at his hot, steamy tea, he sighed and let the tension seep from his body...and began to relate the highlights of his day. Among other anecdotes, he had run into Vil, the prefect of Pomfiore, who had called him a cucumber—which he found oddly flattering, having previously heard others dubbed potatoes. He personally found cucumbers to be much more healthy, and surely higher in Vil's regards, as one who valued his health. He was proud of this small victory, and hoped his master would be, too. He told this to his effigy of Malleus with a humble smile before taking a deep drought of the substantially cooler tea.

As the liquid began to trickle down his throat, he thought he saw the green, slit pupils of the portrait shroud for a moment...as though it had blinked. He choked, surging upright and holding the teacup away from him, trying not to spill what was left as he coughed. By the time he settled, he was once again aware of how silly it was to think a portrait would blink at him... At least, one of a living being, and not a soul trapped eternally in a magical artwork. A brief, panicked thought that Malleus might have died and entered the portrait was stifled by the rational reminder that such artworks were spelled at the time of their creation with the dying breaths of their inhabitants. There was no way Malleus was in Sebek's portrait. The blink was his imagination...and so was the slight smirk he thought he could see. He was tired. He was imagining things.

Sighing, Sebek finished off his tea and set the cup on his desk, filling it with a small spout of water from his magical pen to let it soak overnight for rinsing in the morning. He then climbed up on his desk chair and leaned forward to press a kiss to the lips of the portrait, as he did nightly.

"Goodnight, Malleus," he whispered, shyly looking away from it as he hopped down to douse the candles around his room and crawl into bed.

*

Had Sebek not been flushed with embarrassment and unable to look the portrait in the eyes, he might have noticed those eyes widen with abject shock. The kiss induced mild startlement, but even that could have been concealed. It was the intimate form of address, the soft utterance of Malleus' name from Sebek's lips that caused him to break the still features of the portrait, retreating from the scrying spell in a panic.

The first night, Malleus was shocked. The second, he was mildly embarrassed. The third...he experienced a heat in his belly the likes of which he had never known before...

Every night, Sebek relayed the contents of his day to the portrait of his prince, and every night, he kissed the portrait softly, wishing it a good night before bed. Every night, he blushingly averted his eyes after the kiss, as though the gentle brush of lips upon canvas was the most stirring, intimate kiss he had ever felt.

Every night, Malleus withdrew from the portrait feeling warm and uncomfortable, and some nights, he was forced to take care of that discomfort before he could sleep...but he was no longer homesick. He no longer craved the creature comforts of the Valley of Thorns, for he had everything he needed, right by his side... Almost.

With increasing intensity, Malleus began to daydream about telling Sebek he knew about the nightly ritual... He began to fantasize shoving his manservant up against a wall without the slightest explanation and showing him what it felt like to kiss real lips, and have them kiss you back... And little by little, he hatched a plan.

It wasn't much of a plan, to tell the truth. More than anything, it was a mustering of courage and a manipulation of magic. Night after night, Malleus began a new routine of remaining within the portrait as Sebek fell into a deep sleep, snoring softly. He began to push the boundaries of paint and canvas, until he could not only inhabit and control the visage within the portrait's frame but also make it swell and take on corporeal form beyond those limitations.

Eventually, after weeks—over a month, in fact—of working the spell nightly, Malleus was able to emerge from the portrait and step right through into Sebek's room, controlling the portrait form as he would his own physical body. The magic was ready. All that held him back now was his own resolve.

*

Sebek wandered through his door, stripping off his blazer, his eyes straying to the portrait that held dominion over his room. Of late, he had felt a surpassing connection with it, as though it were watching him, and truly listening to the stories of his day. Sometimes, when he stroked himself off in the shower, it was not his master, per se, who he thought of, but the eerily lifelike eyes of that portrait, watching over him. Once or twice, when his room was veiled in darkness, he had gazed through that velvet curtain of night and rubbed himself idly, imagining the portrait could see him, even though he himself could see nothing at all.

Hurling himself onto his bed, Sebek loosened his tie and wriggled his hips to make his shirt come un-tucked. He felt dramatically exposed, ever so slightly disheveled like that in front of the portrait. As he lay there, his head cushioned on one arm, the other strewn across his belly, he felt as if the eyes of that likeness of Malleus were pulling him in, gazing right back at him. As so often happened when he stared for too long, Sebek felt as if those eyes were shifting minutely—not just the eyes, either. He imagined slight shifts and twitches of the facial landscape. One eyebrow arched ever so slightly higher than the other, even though he had measured their evenness himself one morning out of concern... One corner of the lips turned up higher than the other... A slight tilt of the chin, shadows grown a little longer as though the angle had shifted... His eyes were surely playing tricks. That was what happened, when one stared for too long at an inanimate painting.

Sebek didn't mind it, though. The illusion was comforting. When he relayed the tales of his day, he could easily imagine his prince listening with rapt attention, hanging on his every word. When he leaned in to kiss the portrait good night, he could imagine soft lips pressing back against his own, affectionately. It was a sweet dream...

But tonight he did not feel sweet. Tonight, he felt...bold. Daring.

Malleus had summoned him earlier, while in the bath. Sebek had gone running, only to find his master lying there, arms spread wide, lightly clasping the edges of the tub. Malleus had softly and calmly requested a scattering of rose to offset the heavy lemon scent of the water. 

Chagrined, Sebek fetched a jar of rose petals kept near the washroom for just such a purpose. He had added extra lemon with the intention of draining some of Malleus' exhaustion. Lately, his prince seemed a little drawn and tired, as if he was not sleeping as many hours as he should... Too much lemon was an oversight, of course. Sebek rushed back, his hand stuffed inside the jar to take a handful, but when he reached the tub, Malleus sat up, the water dripping down his frame in rivulets, distracting and captivating Sebek.

While the manservant's hand was still crammed inside, clutching a handful of petals, the prince took hold of the jar and liberated it, tipping the whole of it into the water. Smirking, he lay back down, shimmying his shoulders and settling back against the tub as his eyes drifted shut. He waited for Sebek to take the empty jar—dropping the remaining petals from his hand at the same time—and then the prince sighed contentedly. The petals coated the water, clinging to his skin...but they could not hide that portion of him jutting up from the water's surface, and that was foremost in Sebek's mind as he retired for the night.

Gazing right at the painting, Sebek began to rub himself through his trousers, letting out a soft groan. Instead of the usual mundane anecdotes, he began to relate to the painting how erotic and beautiful Malleus had looked; buried in the fuchsia and scarlet petals pasted upon his gleaming, moonlight skin, in contrast to the sharp green of his eyes and the raven black of his hair, wetly stuck to his neck and shoulders in artful swirls and falls.

Having pried open his belt and shoved his whole hand down his pants, Sebek kept his eyes narrowed open as he jerked furiously, thinking about Malleus' erection, and imagining the prince doing the same, right there in the tub. He told the portrait how badly he wanted to see long, black nails curl about that stick of ivory and stroke it to fullness until globs and drifts of white littered the petals, diffusing into the water. He could have sworn the painting's pupils dilated and its eyes gaped wide with lust, but he couldn't trust his own eyes because his brain was short circuiting with the force of his orgasm, his hips jerking up off the bed, the canopy of his pants growing heavy with sticky the wetness of every thick spurt.

Panting, Sebek collapsed, brushing his sweaty hair off his face and wiping his upper lip. Just the touch of his own skin against his mouth made him shudder with added stimulation. He suddenly needed to feel that canvas against his lips, and quickly jerked his trapped hand free, sucking it clean as he approached the portrait.

It almost looked flushed in the soft glow of the candlelight, and there might have even been a darker gap between Malleus' shapely lips than Sebek usually noticed. Breathing heavily, he leaned in, his own mouth slightly parted and his tongue peeking out. His eyes slid shut as he closed the distance, and then his world dissolved into beautiful madness.

The portrait kissed him back. Plump lower lip reaching out to him, Malleus' tongue slipped and slithered against his own, and then they were lip-locked. Before Sebek could panic and pull away, there was a hand around the back of his neck, holding him against the painting... But it wasn't a painting. At least, not by any definition that Sebek knew. It was flesh and warmth, soft and silky, floral and wonderful...and it kissed like a devil. 

Utterly enchanted, Sebek followed the cues of the hand grasping his neck, the face pushed up against his, and then the hand at his lower back and the hips he brushed against as he was lowered to the floor, almost floating down by the power of Malleus' daunting strength. As the distance between their faces grew, Sebek stared in awe, stunned into silence and flustered beyond all capability of reaction.

Then, Malleus jumped down and herded him to he bed. Sebek didn't really understand how but he was shedding clothes as they went, and so was Malleus, tearing them off like layers of canvas until they were both naked as nymphs. Pushed down onto the bed, Sebek groaned as Malleus' lithely muscled frame came into view. When he found his voice, it was so husky it was almost hoarse.

"Are you an incubus?" he rasped. "Am I dreaming?"

Malleus smirked and slid down Sebek's body, licking up the evidence of his prior orgasm—though his fully erect and weeping state would lead one to doubt that evidence in light of extenuating circumstances. Sebek had no control over his muscles whatsoever or he might have pushed the imposter away, for there was no possibility that whatever had come out of that painting could truly be his master. It was simply inconceivable that Malleus would kiss his cock like so and suckle on his balls with such lascivious desire burning in his beautiful, green eyes...

However, Sebek didn't have to wait long before his suspicions were confirmed, for his master came into his bedroom through the door, clad in a black, silk robe, and watched impassively as the imposter swallowed Sebek down his throat. Like any servant caught red-handed doing something utterly forbidden, Sebek struggled and choked, spluttering incoherent denials as he tried futilely to push the Malleus slurping down his cock away without getting himself bitten. He grabbed a horn and tried to shove, but he was gently shaken off and the pressure devouring him increased until his whole body went weak and his eyes rolled up into his head.

He came again, right there in front of Malleus—the real Malleus. Immediately, he was subsumed with shame and tears began to leak down his cheeks in place of the words that could not leak from his lips for the block of cement sealing his throat off.

He shuddered as black nails skimmed his forehead and slid into his hair, scraping his skull in a way he would have found delightful if he wasn't paralyzed with terror. He whimpered, and suddenly his voice was freed.

"It's not what you think," he squeaked. "I didn't do this."

"I know," Malleus whispered, his breath beating upon Sebek's face with each word, the scent of the jasmine tea the manservant had provided earlier was fresh proof of his identity. "I did this."

Sebek almost thought Malleus was about to kiss him, but then that long-nailed hand slipped out from his hair and trailed down his cheek, cupping his jaw. Curbing his fear, Sebek looked up into his prince's eyes, himself burning with one all-consuming question.

"I did this because I have so enjoyed your little tales of trials and tribulations, hearing the highlights of your day, and the pitfalls... I have enjoyed your goodnight kisses...and your goodnight wishes... And tonight, I enjoyed even more the details of your fascination with my body and the lust I could not hide from you anymore. I enjoyed the look on your face and the seductive lines and arches of your body as your pleasure overwhelmed you. For some time now, I have enjoyed imagining this very moment, this very expression you are wearing right now—of combined horror and excitement. I enjoy, now, the anticipation of dispensing with pretenses, and proceeding with all of the things I have imagined doing to and with you over the last weeks as I observed you relating your tales, going about your nightly rituals, and sleeping under my gaze."

"Y-Young Master, this can't—"

The tip of a nail and the pad of a finger sealed Sebek's lips shut. "This can. This is. This will be. Or would you defy my will, Sebek?"

Sebek's chest puffed outward with a deep inhalation. Malleus' scent filled his nostrils and made his head spin. He closed his eyes, and then opened them, and Malleus' finger slid down his lips, pulling the bottom one down as it went and then scratching his chin with that sharp nail tip.

"No, Young Master," Sebek breathed. "I would never."

"This is my will, Sebek...if—and only if—it is yours."

Sebek took another deep breath. "I cannot tell you if it is my will, Young Master...unless you are more specific with me. What...do you wish of me?"

A slow smirk contorting his lips in a way that made Sebek's pelvic region clench, Malleus leaned down to Sebek's ear, brushing it with his mouth and sniffing at Sebek's hair. "I wish you to let me fulfill my fantasies," Malleus whispered. "I wish to fuck you. I wish for you to fuck me, or, rather, fuck my portrait here..." A bite to the lobe of Sebek's other ear made him jump and squirm, releasing another mortifying squeak. "I wish to share in the tales of your day, and to drink our evening teas side by side, to help you with your studies, to ward your room from other prying eyes, to sense home in you, and to be your home in return... I wish a lot of you, Sebek. Are you willing to give it?"

Ignoring the portrait that was gently kissing his shoulder, Sebek had eyes only for his true master, his prince among fae... "Anything," he promised. "It was vain of me to ask. It never mattered what you answered...because I would give anything for you, do anything for you, fulfill any wish you could ever think of, or die trying."

"I am pleased to hear it, Sebek...and now it would please me even more greatly...to please you," he announced, de-robing with otherworldly grace.

If Sebek had any ill-conceived thought of resisting on the grounds that it was beneath Malleus to do any such thing, he never had a chance to try, for Malleus kissed him with a compelling depth and passion that had him arching and reaching for all of Malleus he could hold in his arms and hands or squeeze between his thighs. When their lips touched, it was like electricity passed between them with a static crackle that made Sebek want to moan. There were two too many hands kneading his muscles and pinching his nipples, his balls, circling his entrance...but he didn't mind in the least. The portrait Malleus may not be real, but he was a gift from Sebek's prince, and one did not look a gift portrait in the anus...unless one was rimming it. That would come later, though. For now, the portrait was preparing Sebek's body for his master's fit, and Malleus was a man of draconic proportions. The slow and sensual stroking and stretching of Sebek's inner walls would have made him climax if he had not already cum twice in so short a spam of time. As it was, he was riding the edge for a while, basking in Malleus' tongue circling lasciviously around his nipples and the sharp-nailed fingers petting his belly while his ass was plowed and pried open first by fingers, and then a whole hand, up to the wrist.

"Bear with me, Sebek," the real Malleus murmured.

Belatedly, it occurred to Sebek that the portrait Malleus did not speak, and most likely could not. He briefly marveled at the sheer magical abundance, control, and concentration a spell like that would require, and wondered that Malleus could maintain it so steadily and with such sophistication. It was a short-lived wonder, because Sebek didn't give a damn about magical prowess when his master's erection prodded at his mouth. He was soon eagerly consumed with consuming what he could take of Malleus down his throat without suffocating. There could be no more stimulating or rewarding experience than tasting and feeling the shape, weight, and texture of the one he loved. As Malleus seeped into his palate and leaked drips of fluid down the lining of his throat, Sebek was transported. 

He had always known he loved his master... He had just never fully comprehended the nature of that love. Since finally coming to attend NRC to be near to Malleus again, Sebek had begun to understand, if only a little... He loved Malleus as more than his way of life, as more than family, even... He loved Malleus in a way that was both soft and ravishing, all at once. It was rivers and lightning, gentle fields and fierce squalls. It was passion and promise, and everything in between... But not once had he dared to imagine Malleus might reciprocate those emotions. Now, he ventured to believe, and his entire body tingled with new life, invigorated by every low moan and twitch of the fingers on his cheek, or the cock swelling on his tongue, the balls rubbing up against his chin that grew heavier by the moment...

Sebek couldn't say when it had happened, but eventually he became aware that there was no more stimulation coming from his widened anus. Even so, he was still riding the edge, just from the taste and feel of Malleus in his mouth. His eyelids felt heavy, but he blinked them open laboriously, gazing up at his master through his lashes. It was a mistake. Malleus was staring down at him, teeth bared and a look of raw greed plastered across his face.

Making a noise of dismay, Sebek clenched every muscle in his body, fighting the impulse to set his sperm free. As he did so, Malleus pulled away, almost pushing him over the edge at first, with the way that monster cock dragged across his larynx, but then he was distracted by the influx of air into his lungs and the very lack of sensation within his mouth.

"Did I hurt you?" Malleus gasped, kneeling down beside Sebek and cupping his face.

Sebek shook his head, moved almost to tears again. How could he possibly believe there was anything he could ever have done to be worthy of this man's care and consideration, let alone his desire...

Malleus quickly surveyed Sebek's body, disbelieving his denial...but his eyes soon came to rest on the upright shaft, throbbing and red with impending release. He glanced back up into Sebek's face and then slowly reached down, curling his fingers around the shaft that instantly exploded at his touch. He slowly ran his palm up and down, squeezing toward the tip and then relaxing his grip. The impossible orgasm seemed to last forever.

"It's all right, Sebek," Malleus was saying. "You need not hold back. When I enter you...it will last for hours. In time, you will rise again."

Feeling faint, Sebek did not doubt that he would indeed rise again, though he did doubt that it would take as long as Malleus' words seemed to imply for him to be hard and ready to cum again. He just wasn't sure if he could withstand the number of orgasms he estimated might come of hours of being filled by Malleus' gigantic cock. He was too lethargic to be afraid of losing his virginity to a thing that size...and too drained to worry about whether he would survive the purge of every ounce of semen his body could produce... All he knew was that his mouth was soon full again, with Malleus' tongue tying his own in knots, and his ass was empty... Empty and craving.

"Fuck me," he begged, though the moan was muted and swallowed by the maelstrom kiss.

Malleus seemed to understand, though. Rather than situating himself between Sebek's thighs, he gently rolled Sebek onto his side, torso twisted to maintain the kiss. Then, he stroked Sebek's chin and pulled his mouth away, pressing Sebek's shoulder down toward the mattress as he lined himself up. The portrait circled an arm under Sebek's knees and pulled them up so that he was nearly curled in on himself, twisted oddly, and further contorted as his body began to open to Malleus' intrusion.

Letting out a cry, Sebek was overcome by sensation. Such was his love and acceptance of Malleus that what pain was inevitable registered to him as pleasure, and his thighs and shoulders shook with it as he was held down by the portrait, kissed on the cheek, the hair, the forearm, the hip. Malleus was hissing at his back, a sound that surged into a groan once the head of his cock was past Sebek's ring and he began to slide in with a little more traction. Sebek groaned, too, as that same cockhead dragged against his innards, penetrating ever deeper.

What had seemed impossible, suddenly felt absolutely right. Yes, Malleus was huge for such a lithe figure, but however disproportionate his size, he was not as big as his sheer presence implied. There was a shape to his penis that was more dragon than man, and made it seem so much larger, but now that Sebek was stretched and readied for him, it was as though he was the perfect fit, filling Sebek up just right, like a structure slipping back into its mold. It was snug...but cosy, and when Malleus stilled, spooning Sebek and petting his skin, they stayed that way for a time, breathing together in silent appreciation. When Malleus began to move, with some difficulty at first, Sebek felt it in his belly, poking and rubbing in places it wasn't natural to feel movement from within. He clapped a hand to his lower abdominals, pressing hard and feeling the contour of Malleus under his fingers, and his mouth gaped open.

As if that was his cue, the portrait closed in and claimed Sebek's mouth in a gentle kiss, distracting him some from the torturous ache of pleasure as Malleus started pistoning lightly. The split focus was all that kept Sebek from losing his mind with how strange and wonderful it felt to have Malleus moving inside of him, like a piece of him, another organ doing its part. He wondered if he would ever be able to function without it again.

Then, his whole world shifted as Malleus rolled onto his back, taking Sebek with him. The manservant found himself stretched out over his master's torso with his head tipping from Malleus' shoulder back onto the mattress, his thighs splayed open with Malleus' knees bent up between them. The first thrust silenced all thought and poetry in motion, each thrust escalating in sensation until Sebek was a constant, moaning mess, completely at his master's mercy.

*

The courtesans who had initiated Malleus into the sexual arts had been trained and gifted professionals, magically inclined either to provide or receive pleasure. One had been blessed with the ability to feel pain as pleasure in every sense. Another had roots like tentacles, coated with rapid onset aphrodisiac. A favorite had been able to sense every onset, spike, and dip in pleasure, keeping Malleus teetering on the precipice of orgasm for as long as he could stay awake.

Each and every one of them had been reduced to screams and moans by the generously endowed crown prince by the completion of their contract. In short, Malleus was a stallion.

Pounding Sebek from below, he had his arms wrapped around a sturdy waist and worked his hips relentlessly, reveling in the sensation of an ass that fit like a glove. He only slammed harder as Sebek began to tremble violently in ways Malleus' jolting pace could not account for. By the sound of the raw, primal cry that rang out, Malleus guessed it for a dry orgasm. He slowed and stopped, pinning Sebek by the waist as the manservant twitched and drew his knees in, involuntarily.

Malleus was far from done. The portrait clone under his control clambered atop Sebek, holding down his thighs. Soon, the first year was pinned down by the portrait's weight settling around his persistent erection and eagerly beginning to ride.

His head thrashing from side to side, Sebek was clearly overwhelmed, so Malleus stilled his own hips and brought his hand to Sebek's throat, stroking his chin and cheek to calm and reassure him, then pressing down lightly at his collar bone, stilling him. "That's a good boy," he murmured, craning his neck to speak into Sebek's ear. "You are always so good to me. Tonight, I wish to repay that goodness."

"Young Master... There's no need—"

"Malleus," growled the dorm leader. "Call me by my name...as you do the portrait."

In some ways, he was jealous. Even if that portrait represented him, still Sebek addressed it in such an intimate manner and even now called him by a title of authority. He wanted to hear the same unbridled emotion, the same unrestrained passion in his own name in his own right.

"M-M-Mall...eus..." Sebek whispered.

Dragging his nails across Sebek's belly and then digging them into the soft flesh of his naval, just shy of breaking skin, Malleus timed a deep thrust just as the portrait clone came down on Sebek's cock, taking him in to the hilt. The sudden, intense dual sensation made Sebek cry out, and Malleus' fingers spread and stroked, the feel of his own touch through Sebek's skin increasing his own pleasure.

"M-Malleus!"

"Again!" Another carefully timed thrust.

"Malleus!"

"Louder!"

"Ah! Malleus! Please, Malleus, I can't..."

Sebek trailed off, whimpering with the restraint of holding back the rest of what he had unwittingly tried to say. He could never—would never—deny anything to or ask anything of Malleus. That had to change.

Ignoring the vigorous, rolling ride of the portrait, Malleus began to fuck Sebek once again, entirely at his own pace. He was well aware that the contrast of rhythms and sensations would likely drive his manservant mad. He pressed down hard with his hand, hissing at the sensation that gripped his cock, and reveling in the knowledge of what it must be doing to Sebek.

"Can't you?" he breathed.

Tears leaked from the corners of Sebek's eyes and he gasped. They were not tears of emotion, but purely a physical reaction to physical overload. 

"I can't take any more," Sebek croaked in a rush, the dam of restraint breaking.

That statement was the crack in Malleus' own dam and he pressed his face into Sebek's shoulder, speeding up his thrusts and throwing consistency to the wind, just striving to reach his own climax. He might have gone all night, with someone else... But this was Sebek. This was someone he felt close to, who made him feel comfortable and welcome, but also caught him off guard on occasion. This was someone he wanted to please more than he wanted to be pleased. This was a man on the brink of mental collapse, begging him...

Watching though eyes slitted with jealousy as the portrait bent down and swallowed Sebek's scream in a kiss, riding itself to messy completion, Malleus thrust hard and fast, Holding Sebek down with bruising force and shuddering with the onset of his own orgasm.

All the while, Sebek was trembling and shuddering, his limbs jerking with involuntary motions until he flopped, unconscious and still, his mouth hanging open with drool leaking from its edges. Still holding tight to Sebek's unconscious form, Malleus dismissed the painting, letting the magic disperse. He turned his face to Sebek's hair and took a deep breath.

It smelled like home.

**Author's Note:**

> It's everyone's birthday at some point, so Happy Birthday to everyone looking for a slice of this pairing. <3


End file.
